Windward Circle
by JohnGreenGirl
Summary: This is the story of Dallas Winston's little sister, Brooklyn. When Dally dies, her world falls apart. That is, until Sodapop Curtis swoops in and forces her to see that there is still good in the world.
1. Windward Circle Preface

Elvis Presley's last words were "Okay, I won't." John F. Kennedy said "You certainly can't," just before his death. Marilyn Monroe's last sentence was "Say goodbye to Pat, say goodbye to the president, and say goodbye to yourself, because you're a nice guy." Only the famous people get to have famous last words.

More famous to myself and my friends were the last words of Johnny Cade and Dallas Winston. Before dying, Johnny said, "Stay gold, Ponyboy." We all knew in the back of our minds that Johnny would die. He didn't die as suddenly as Elvis, or JFK, or Marilyn. He wasn't there one moment and gone the next.

But Dally was. As the bullets tore into his chest, Dallas simply said my name.


	2. Windward Circle Ch 1

I was never superstitious _before, _but _after_ I was. Before all of the events that happened in that one fateful week, the four of us most involved were hurt. It was like a premonition. First it was Dally. Now, Dally fought more than any of the other boys, so it wasn't weird for him to be hurt from time to time. However, it was weird for Dally to get hurt by ordinary objects.

"So," I said, drawing out that one syllable, "you did this to yourself?" Dallas was mad, but that didn't bother me none. I knew his anger wouldn't be directed at me. The rest of his gang, plus Karen, Evie, and Sandy, all watched wide-eyed as I pressed a wet wash cloth to his eyebrow.

"Yes." He mumbled. You see, Dallas liked beer. I don't care for it. I think it tastes like puke. But Dally loved it, and he especially loved it from a bottle. And one day, not long after Mr. and Mrs. Curtis were killed in a car accident, Dally had been opening a beer when—get this—the bottle cap popped off and caught him on the eyebrow.

"I'm kinda amazed how much that's bleedin'," Two-Bit chipped in. He was more than a little soused himself, or otherwise I have no doubt he would have taken in Dallas's expression and stayed quiet. When the bleeding finally stopped, I put peroxide on it, making Dally scowl up at me. "Oh, quit your belly-achin'. It's better than gettin' infected."

Johnny was the next to get hurt, and his injuries, I think, are really the beginning of it all. Johnny was beat up by the Socs, the rivals of the greasers. It was nothing new for the Socs to jump us. They even jumped us girls a few times; once, Sandy had a black eye for a week from a Soc when she told him she wouldn't get in his car. But Johnny was beat almost to death and left him a long, thin scar on his face.

None of the girls were there immediately after. We all saw Johnny a day or two after he was jumped, but I remember Dally was so mad that he, Tim, Steve, and Two-Bit went on a rampage through the Soc's side of town. Sodapop was itching to go with them, but if he did that, and they got caught, he'd be put in a boy's home with Ponyboy for sure.

"You know, it just ain't fair," he ranted to Sandy, Karen and I the day it was planned to happen. We were sitting in the DX while Soda wiped down counters and counted change, getting ready to end his shift. He and Sandy had just begun dating, and they were in that stage of awkward, excited smiles. He gave her one before continuing. "They can do stuff like this, almost kill someone, and if we so much as look at them the wrong way we have the fuzz all over us."

"Life ain't fair," Karen said, never looking up from her nails, which she was filing. Soda had rolled his eyes, winked at Sandy, and popped Karen's hand with his wet towel.

Next in line to get hurt was me. It happened when Evie and I were walking home from school at the beginning of my sophomore year and her junior year. Little boys in our neighborhood usually have a BB gun of some sort, and most are allowed only plastic BBs, which really can't hurt you. But some kids have metal BBs, and some kids just don't care who they shoot with those BBs.

I got shot in the calf by a kid with terrible aim. I tried really hard not to cry, but anyone who's had a BB in their leg would agree that it hurts something awful. Evie had to carry me to her house, where her mom, who worked as a nurse was able to push the BB out, which caused me to cry more. Now I have a perfectly round silver-pink scar on my calf.

The last to get hurt was Ponyboy. He rounded out our injuries five months after it started with Dally whenever he got jumped by Socs at the beginning of the hell week. They left him with a cut at his hairline and a bruise on his cheek. That day, late in the morning, started the domino effect that would eventually end with the death of my brother.

Later that night, Ponyboy, Dallas, and Johnny went to The Dingo to watch a movie. That, to Dally, meant picking up girls. I remember I was glad, because he had broken up with Sylvia as soon as he got out of jail that morning. I hated Sylvia more than a little bit. Darry was at home, actually getting to nap when his roofing job ended unexpectedly early. Sandy, Evie, Soda, and Steve were at the football game; so were Karen and I, but we weren't sitting with them. We were with Curly and his friends. After the game, when Curly broke the lights on the scoreboard, he got sent to reformatory once again. Two-Bit, we found out later, hooked up with Johnny and Pony at the movies.

The three of them walked Cherry and Marcia, two Socs, home. They almost got in a fight with their boyfriends, Randy and Bob. In the early hours of morning, Randy tried to drown Ponyboy in the fountain in the park and Johnny stabbed Bob. They ran away, missing a lot of action while they were hiding out in Windrixville. That's the story Dally told me, even though he lied to everyone else about exactly what happened that night.

That's where the story really starts, that week Ponyboy missed.


	3. Windward Circle Ch 2

I woke up the following Saturday to a phone call from Darry. "Hullo?" I said, still asleep honestly.

"Brooklyn, please tell me you've seen Ponyboy and Johnny." He sounded really worried and I wondered what had happened.

"No, Dare, I ain't seen 'em since yesterday. Is somethin' the matter?" I could hear him sigh and tell Soda I hadn't seen them. "We can't find them. If you hear from them or see them, could you go to the DX and tell Sodapop?"

"Yeah, of course." I was getting awfully worried. Johnny and Pony rarely got in trouble and for them to be missing was a big thing.

"Is Dally home?" Dallas rarely if ever actually came home for more than five minutes, unless Dad was gone. "Nope. He stayed at Buck's last night." He sighed again and said, "Tell Dal I want to talk to him." He hung up without saying goodbye.

I got dressed and kind of brushed my hair. My hair is permanently in this state between wavy and curly and is always frizzy, so it freaks out at the mere mention of brushes. Our house wasn't that far from Buck's, so I made it there before Dallas even woke up. He was sleeping on his stomach, his head covered by a pillow. Waking up Dally was always a challenge, especially if he had been drinking, so I started with pulling the pillow off his head.

"Mmmf. Go away, Buck." He covered his face with his arms. "It's not Buck. It's your sister, now get up." He rolled half towards me and opened one clear blue eye. "Didn't I tell you I'd skin you for stepping foot in this place?" I ignored him.

"Where's Johnny and Ponyboy?" Dally's hard smile spread across his face and his eyes twinkled dangerously.

"Haven't read the papers yet, Brookie? Johnny knifed a Soc. I had to get the boys out." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I threw the pillow into his face, hard.

"You sent them to Windrixville, didn't you? They'll get in so much more trouble, hiding out instead of just giving themselves up!" Dally got really mad really fast. He grabbed my arm, pulling me forward so that we were eye-to-eye.

"You listen here, Brooklyn. You didn't know New York the way I did because I made it that way, and Johnny sure as hell ain't goin' to know jail if I have anything to say about it." He pushed me back a bit before pushing himself off the bed and going through a drawer until he found a shirt that was his and not Buck's. "And if you know what's good for you, little sister, you'll keep your trap shut and not tell either Dally or Soda where them boys are."

"As far as you are concerned," he continued, pulling on socks and his boots, "Johnny and Pony lit out for Texas. You understand?" I knew better than to disagree with Dally. He'd never hit me or anything like that, but I knew he could get dangerously mad. So I just nodded. "Be careful with them, Dally," I told him before leaving.

When Darry finally got to question Dally later that day, he told Darry that he didn't know where they were. That, yes, he had helped them, but no, he didn't know for sure where they were headed. Texas, he said. He thought Johnny had mentioned Texas.

"I can't believe it was little old Johnny," Evie said that night when I went over with Karen and Sandy. We were sitting in her bedroom and she was leaning out her window to smoke. Her parents weren't real keen on the idea of her smoking, so she did it secretly. Karen and I joined her, Sandy didn't. I didn't really want to smoke, but I wanted something to calm my nerves, and cigarettes always do the trick.

Out of all of us, Evie was the most like a typical greaser girl. Karen and I had older brothers that would beat us silly for dressing and behaving like typical greaser girls. Sandy was just too sweet to be one, plus while her parents were always fighting, they still doted on her. I think a lot of the reason why the kids in our neighborhood were the way they were was because their parents didn't pay any attention to them. That's what got to Evie. Aside from not wanting her to smoke, her parents never paid her any mind.

"I bet it was the same boys that beat Johnny up the last time. Them Socs need to learn a lesson," Karen blew her smoke into perfect circles every time. I don't know how she did it. She was slick as Two-Bit, too, able to swipe things so easily and never getting caught. She was more like her mother, though, often serious and working as a waitress even though she was only fifteen at the time.

"That boy being dead isn't going to change anything." I leaned my head against the side of the window. I was feeling guilty for keeping Dally's secret. Darry had told us Pony ran out because they got in an argument and Darry had slapped him. I knew Darry didn't mean to. Darry cared too much about Pony to ever hurt him on purpose. He tried so hard to keep Pony safe and in school. He and Soda were worrying themselves sick.

Evie went off about the Socs. Maybe because her cousin was a Soc, or maybe because Steve influenced her, Evie hated the Socs with a passion. Karen was more than happy to join in, trying to point out that the Socs would always have money and we wouldn't, and that I was right. Bob's death wouldn't change a thing. It was getting more and more heated and then I broke in saying, "Come on, Sandy. Let's go home."

Dally didn't like me sleeping at home alone. Even though he and Dad hated each other, I was at the most friendly with our father. The only problem was that he was away so much because he was a truck driver. So most nights, I spent the night at someone's house. Sometimes the Curtis' house, but mostly at either Karen's or Sandy's or Evie's.

Much later, while Sandy and I lay in her bed, listening to her parents arguing quietly downstairs, Sandy turned to me. "Brookie, can you keep a secret?"

I had figured it'd be something about how she had planned to marry Soda. Just the day before, I had overheard Pony telling Johnny about Soda telling him he planned on marrying Sandy, and I just thought that was what she was getting at.

"You know I can Sandy," I said, flipping over onto my stomach. Me and Dally slept alike. "It's about Sodapop."

"What is it?" I asked. Sandy paused. "I'm pregnant, and it isn't his." That made me sit up and she did too. Her nightgown's sleeve slid down her shoulder and the way her hair was tousled made her seem so much older than just turned sixteen. Or maybe it was the fact that she was pregnant that made me suddenly feel so much younger than her.

"Then whose?" Sandy looked down, playing with her blankets. "You don't know him. None of you do. Please, Brooklyn, don't say anything to him. I know the timing is bad, but I'm gonna tell him tomorrow."

Sandy wasn't the good girl I thought she was. Sandy was gone the next day, off to Florida to live with her grandparents, even though Soda said he'd marry her. She said no and left. A red-eyed Soda asked me if I knew. I looked him right in the eye and said no. I've never felt so bad about anything in my life.


	4. Windward Circle Ch 3

I remember the church Dally sent Ponyboy and Johnny to. Our cousin Shane showed it to us once whenever we had stopped in Windrixville before settling in Tulsa. The roof was missing in places, and what windows that didn't have cracked or broken glass were boarded up. We didn't go in, but I reckon it couldn't have been warm or nice, and I'm sure Johnny and Pony had some pretty bad nights in it.

Still, it was better than being in town. As if teachers didn't throw us dirty looks enough, after the story hit the papers, it was like the greasers couldn't breathe without getting detention. Plus the Socs had called for war, attacking anyone who walked alone. Even the girls. Dally had taken to walking me to and from school, and insisting I either stay with Karen after school or at the Curtis house. That's where I was the Monday after the boys ran.

I was patching a pair of Darry's jeans—the Curtis boys had no idea how to sew and even though Karen and Evie were capable of doing it, they never did—and thinking about earlier in the day whenever Cherry Valance knocked her pencil off her desk in home economics class. Cherry and I sat beside each other because of alphabetical order. Even though the pencil fell closer to her desk than mine, she didn't bend over for it. So I did, and as soon as I did, she did too.

"Are Ponyboy and Johnny okay?" She asked when I handed it to her, smiling like she'd told me 'thank you'.

"They're fine," I said, also smiling. She nodded and didn't speak to me the rest of class. It was weird; Cherry had been Bob's girlfriend, but she came back to school while Marcia had skipped it. Randy, Marcia's boyfriend and Bob's friend, hadn't been there either.

The cops brought Dally in for questioning that day. He told them what he told me: the boys were headed to Texas. He was telling the same lie to the boys in the living room when I pricked my finger with my needle. I brought it to my mouth just as the little bead of blood formed and just as Two-Bit jumped out of his chair.

"What the hell are we doin' just sittin' around, then?! We should be huntin' them down ourselves!" He'd grabbed his jacket and was on his way out the door when Steve stopped him.

"Two-Bit, do you know how suspicious it'll look if we all get to disappearin'? It wouldn't be helpin' Johnny at all! They'd never believe him in court if he does get caught." Steve was right. Steve was smart. He was able to keep his head when all the other boys just about lost theirs, because he had to deal with a father telling him he hated him every week.

Two-Bit let loose with a slur of cuss words and Darry hit him in the head, throwing a glance towards me. "Sorry, Brooklyn," he mumbled.

Looking through the doorway, I saw Dally pretend to brood, even though I knew he was feeling pretty good about himself for having successfully hidden Pony and Johnny away. Steve clenched and unclenched his hands on his knees. Sodapop stared out the window, face blank. Darry was staring at the floor, and Two-Bit was pacing, his arms crossed.

On Tuesday, the Shephard gang came over to our vacant lot to play football. For them it was a game; for the boys it was a way to let off steam. Evie, Karen, and I sat on the part of the old wooden fence still standing at one end of the lot. Some of the Shephard gang's girlfriends and sisters were there. Angela Shephard came to sit with us.

"I would've expected one of our brothers to kill someone, not that black-haired kid, Brookie." She lit up off of Evie's cigarette and perched on the edge of the fence. Her already short skirt rode up about three inches.

I shrugged, declining Evie's opened pack. "Life's full of surprises." We watched the boys for a while. Because Darry was so big, two of Tim's smaller guys got to take him on together. Running at him full speed, they were just about to try to tackle him when a cherry red Sting Ray pulled up to the edge of the lot.

"That's Cherry Valance's car!" Karen called out to the boys, who had started to assemble for a fight.

"Maybe we should teach the broad a lesson, eh?" Tim was still stewing over Two-Bit having been unfairly jumped earlier in the day. The Socs had been armed, and even though Two-Bit always had his black switch on him, he didn't pull it. Two-Bit believed in fair fights all the way. "What d'ya say, boys?" Tim called to his men. They all yelled in agreement.

"There's no way in hell you're puttin' your hands on her, Timmy. She ain't done nothing to us. Let's just cool it and see what she wants." Two-Bit said and then waved Karen and I over, probably because we were the greaser girls least likely to scare Cherry. I tapped her passenger side window and she rolled it down, her face white.

"Call me 'Timmy' again and I'll make sure you'll never speak again, Two-Bit!" Tim yelled. I think he was trying to scare Cherry, and it worked. Her eyes got real big.

"They won't bother you none. They'd have to get through Darry. He won't let them lay a finger on a girl," I told her, and pointed out Darry, who had come to stand guard along with Sodapop and Steve. Even Dally, who had been all for jumping Cherry a second ago, joined the line. You always stick with and up for your gang. Some of her color came back then.

"How many of y'all are here?" Darry's gang had always been small, especially with Johnny and Pony gone. Tim's gang had grown to upwards of twenty.

"Just us and Shephard's outfit," Two-Bit said, leaning into the car. "So what's the deal, Cherry? It ain't like you to show up on our side alone." She still looked scared. "They'll back off if you get out of the car and talk to Darry and Tim. Show 'em you ain't afraid."

Cherry took Karen's advice and Two-Bit tapped Darry's shoulder while I called over Tim. "_Just_ Tim, you disobedient hoods!" Dally and a few of Tim's boys had tried to follow. Dally glared at me and I smiled sweetly.

We all backed up, leaving Cherry alone with Tim and Darry. God bless him, Darry angled himself between Tim and Cherry so that Tim couldn't pull anything. Soda's hand on my shoulder stopped me. "What does she want?"

"I don't know, Soda. She didn't tell us." Cherry talked with the boys for a moment before Darry shouldered Tim into following him. He waved Steve and Soda on to stand between the Shephard boys and Cherry. You could never be too careful with the Shephard gang.

Darry began to speak. "Cherry's willing to be our spy. She'll tell us any news from the Socs side. She's got our protection, y'all hear? Any of you so much as say something ugly to her and I'll personally beat you to a pulp. Got it?" Even though Darry wasn't their leader, everybody nodded. "That means you, too, Angela." She'd been known to fight herself.

Dally broke away to talk to Cherry. I didn't hear what he said to her, but I heard her tell him he could go to hell, and I laughed. "You like her!" I said in a singsong voice later that night.

"Shut your mouth, Brooklyn."

The next day, Tim and Dally were able to grab hold of one of the Soc presidents. The two of them set up a rumble set for Saturday night. It seemed the whole thing would be smooth sailing, until Friday came along.


	5. Windward Circle Ch 4

Friday started out like a normal day. Well, what was normal for that week anyway. Dally was gone in Windrixville, to see the boys. Karen, Evie, Two-Bit, Steve, and I went to school. Sodapop and Darry went to work. Life went on.

Karen and I were experimenting with some makeup she managed to steal after school when we heard the sirens go by. "What do you think that's about?" Karen shrugged, swiping a dark green shade of eye shadow across her lid.

"Fight. Car wreck." What we never thought of was three teenaged boys that we knew being rushed to the hospital: one with a broken back, one with a burnt arm, and one who was going to be okay.

Not even twenty minutes after we heard the ambulance sirens, the house phone rang. "Hello?" A man's voice answered me.

"Hello, is this the Winston household?" I knew then that it was Dally. That he had been hurt, that all of them had been hurt, and they were hurt enough for someone to look in their wallets and read their information.

"Yes," I said, trying not to let my voice shake. "Is Mr. David Winston home?" Was this man a doctor? He was asking for Dad. Dally was so hurt they wanted to talk to Dad? "No, he's away for work. Who's this?"

"Excuse me, my name is Dr. Locke. Is this Mr. Winston's wife speaking?" Karen appeared in the doorway, eyebrow arched just like her brother's.

"No, sir. This is his daughter. He, um, he doesn't have a wife, sir." The doctor was quiet for a couple of seconds. Single fathers weren't common.

"Well, Miss Winston, if you could get a hold of your father would you please tell him that your brother Dallas was in a fire and is currently suffering from second degree burns on his arm? It isn't that serious. He'll only be held a few days, just to be safe, and then released."

I mouthed the word 'fire' to Karen before asking, "Could you, um, was anyone brought in with Dallas? Two boys? One has brown hair and one has black." I could hear him sigh.

"I can't tell you their condition, but, yes, two boys were brought in with him. Though one was blond; the other did have black hair." Blond? "Thank you, Dr. Locke." I sounded all of five years old when I told him goodbye.

I pulled Karen by her arm, not even bothering to explain where it was we were going or why. I guess she'd heard me say 'doctor', because she kept her mouth shut and didn't ask any questions as we cut through alleys and across fences to reach the hospital.

"I'm gonna kill that boy," I muttered to myself. How in God's name had he gotten himself mixed up in a fire? I had to show a nurse my ID card from my purse so she'd believe my name really is Winston and I really was Dally's sister. I didn't blame her; me and Dally didn't really look too much alike. He was towheaded and I was strawberry blonde. His eyes were an icy blue; my blue eyes were a little darker and kind of green. She made Karen sit in a waiting room.

On my way to the room, I was passing a vaguely familiar blond boy covered in ash and smoke. "Brookie," he said and suddenly I knew him.

"Glory. Ponyboy Curtis, what happened to your hair?" He gave me a shrug. Pony was a year younger than me, but he was in my grade because he was so dang smart. "Johnny's idea. To disguise ourselves, you know." Johnnycake. I had forgotten about him being in this mess because I was so focused on yelling at Dally. "Where is he?"

Ponyboy shrugged again and looked down to the floor. "He's hurt worse'n Dally, I suppose. He wasn't awake when they brought him in, and they won't tell me nothin'." Before I could help myself, I rubbed Pony's new, short blond hair. A fat man behind us cleared his throat.

"Ponyboy, some boys are here to see you. Say they're your brothers." I left before Darry and Sodapop came in, ducking into a room to deal with my own brother.

"Dallas Ethan, as I live an' breathe. What the _hell_ has happened?" Dally was sitting upright, his right arm bandaged up, using a combination of his left hand and teeth to try to take it off.

"Well, you see, Brooklyn Paige, Pony and Johnny decided to play hero and save some little kids from a fire." He said it the way he said most things: detached and coldly. "Have you seen Johnny? They brought him in before me."

"No. But Pony said he musta been hurt pretty bad, seeing as he wasn't awake when they brought him in and they won't tell Pony anythin'." Giving up on his bandages, Dally glared at me like it was my fault.

"This is all such bullshit," he said waving me away. I rolled my eyes and walked into a commotion if I've ever seen one. Television reporters were everywhere. Asking Darry and Soda and Pony questions, snapping their pictures. I stayed just behind the corner, smiling whenever Soda turned the tables on them and started to ask the reporters questions. At one point, he even tried lifting a cop's gun.

It all lasted for about ten minutes before they all scattered and the Curtis brothers left. I don't know why I stayed hidden. Something about the whole affair felt too personal to interrupt. A strictly family thing.

The next day, Saturday, was the day set for the rumble. Karen, Evie, and I went over the Curtis house around five. Girls were never a part of a rumble, but Evie liked to be with Steve before he fought. Karen and Two-Bit took Steve's place in his and Soda's poker game while Evie and Steve went to sit on the porch. I went into the kitchen to help Darry cook because I was feeling useless. "How's Dallas?"

"He'll be okay. He's mad he's in the hospital. He tries to pretend he's not worried over Johnny. Said Timmy came by and made fun of him for bein' a hero." I nodded toward the newspaper on the table. "How's Pony?" Darry shrugged.

"'Bout as good as he can be, I reckon. I think stayin' in that church made him sick, but he wants to fight tonight." I was cutting potatoes while Darry prepared some chicken to bake.

"You ought to just let him. You'll be short on men, what with Johnny and Dally in the hospital and Curly in reform school again." Darry only sighed and changed the subject. "Have you seen Johnny?" He whispered.

"Yeah, I went after I talked to Dallas 'cause he asked me to since the nurses ain't lettin' him out of his room, but he was asleep. Nurse said that he passed out when Pony and Two-Bit had been there. She only let me stay a minute." Johnny had looked so small in that hospital bed. His black hair had been clean of grease, and it framed his head in fluffy tufts. He had been so still, I was afraid he was dead.

After dinner, all the boys got spruced up. Pony looked an awful lot like Sodapop once he got some grease into his new blond hair. Us girls stayed at the Curtis home. Like I said, a rumble is no place for girls. "Y'all lock the door, now. You hear? I don't trust those Socs."

Not even an hour later, the boys came back. Soda was all but carrying Steve. Two-Bit, bloody as he was, looked happier than I had seen him in a long while. Darry said tiredly, "We won," before starting towards the bathroom. His forehead was cut open.

"Where's Ponyboy?" Karen asked. "He and Dallas went to see Johnny," Two-Bit explained. Sodapop laid Steve on the couch as gently as he could, but we could all hear him groan.

"I think my ribs are broken, buddy," he said to Sodapop. "Well, then don't talk, stupid."

"I think I'm gonna need stitches. Ain't there a little clinic somewhere around her, Dare? I don't wanna walk all the way to the hospital on a night like this." Two-Bit pointed outside, where trees were being bent in the cold wind. We all knew he meant _I don't want to be at the hospital when Johnny dies,_ but we all pretended it was the weather. Sometimes, pretending is just plain easier.

There was a lot of doctoring that night, what with all the boys being hurt. None of us realized it was getting late until Ponyboy burst into the house after midnight. Even though Darry and Soda tried to talk to him, he just kept repeating, "Johnny's dead."

"Johnny's dead," he told us. "Dally couldn't take it," he said. "He's gonna blow."


	6. Windward Circle Ch 5

I really can't remember much of what happened after Darry got the phone call from Dally, but I do remember Dally's death exactly. I remember gathering my skirt in one of my hands so I could run better. I remember pushing Karen, Evie, Two-Bit, Darry… pushing them all off of me, following Ponyboy and Soda and Steve.

"The gun!" I yelled when I caught up to them. "He's got a gun! He told me he has a gun and that fool, he'll use it, you know he will!"

I remember being able to outrun all of them, even though they were all taller and stronger. Maybe it was because they were all busted up from the rumble. I figure it's because it meant more to me.

I remember yelling his name, locking eyes with him, seeing him getting ready to run harder when the police cars rounded the corner. He reached into his waistband, but never took his eyes off of me. As he raised the gun, I could hear the boys yelling at the cops to stop, not to shoot.

"Just a kid," Sodapop yelled. I reached the edge of the circle of light. Dally was in the center.

I remembered, then, Dally's voice months earlier when he played a trick on Tim, swiping the bullets from his gun.

_"He'll be angry, Dal. Those bullets are liable to end up in you."_

The pop of guns sounded, and I thought dumbly they sounded like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

_"Shoot, kid. It'll take more than bullets to kill me."_

A sick grin spread across his face. His body jerked towards me, knocked back by the impacts of the bullets. "_Brooklyn._" He said my name like a prayer. I threw myself forward, but was stopped by somebody's arms.

"Just a kid," I could hear Soda's voice in my ear, but it didn't make any sense. It was too soft, too gentle among the sound of sirens and yelling and pounding footsteps. It didn't fit with the smell of smoke and metallic blood.

"Glory, look at the kid!" Two-Bit yelled and Soda pushed me hard enough towards him that I just about knocked Two-Bit over. Ponyboy had fallen and Darry caught him just before he busted his face on the ground. Steve was hunched over, holding his side and gasping. I knew they were hurt, but all I cared about was Dally. But he was dead.

Dallas died young. He died violent. He died desperate. He died gallant. Above all, he died happy.


	7. Windward Circle Ch 6

If you happened to ask me how I got home following Dally's death, I wouldn't be able to tell you if my life depended on it. I suppose one of the boys took me home. Or maybe Karen or Evie.

What I can tell you is that I slept an awful long time afterwards. When I woke up, it was late afternoon. "Hey, sleepyhead, you been out for a while." Evie's voice scared me.

"Hey, Eve," I said, wondering what she was doing there. "It's Monday, in case you were wonderin'." My head hurt and I was stiff all over. I got out of bed and tried to stretch.

"You been here all day?" I asked, and she nodded. "Why didn't you go to school?" She held out a cup of water to me.

"Someone had to take care of you. Don't you remember wakin' up at all? I had to make you get up to eat and have water. Stevie called your dad. Said he'd be comin' home soon, takin' off of work to stay with ya."

I drank the whole glass of water like I'd never had any in my life. We were both avoiding the reason for her being there and me sleeping so much, and we both knew it. "Why don't you take a bath? Kare's comin' over soon to take over for me." I did what I was told.

When I got out I dressed in pajamas. Karen was cooking in the kitchen. "Hey, Brookie!" Her lips were shaky. "Want some food?" The thought made me want to puke. "I'm not hungry."

Her whole face seemed to fall. "Oh. But you need to eat something. You haven't had more'n crackers since Saturday. You know as well as I do Evie can't cook worth a hang." I shrugged. "I ain't hungry," I said again, and went back to my room. If I felt better, I would have noticed that the house was too clean. Instead, I just went to bed.

When I woke up again, it was because someone was shaking my shoulder. "Time to wake up, Baby Doll." Dad hadn't called me 'Baby Doll' since before my mother died. I pulled my pillow over my face.

"C'mon, you gotta get up sometime." I think I said, 'no'. Grabbing my wrists, he pulled me forward. He had opened the curtains, and the bright morning sun hurt my eyes.

"Your friends said you been missin' school. Now, you don't got to go today, but if you miss any more, you're gonna get too far behind." It suddenly occurred to me that Dad looked a great deal like Dally. Same blond hair and blue eyes.

_Get tough and nothing can touch you,_ Dally's voice suddenly sounded in my head. So I dug my nails into my palms, refusing to feel the sadness.

"It's almost time for Thanksgiving break," I said, like that changed anything. My voice was scratchy. Just like Evie, he handed me a glass of water and I drank all of it.

"They said you ain't been eatin', either. You have to eat, Brooklyn." After changing, I ate exactly six bites of the scrambled eggs and toast he set before me. Then I asked to go lay down, saying my head hurt, because it did. He made me lay on the couch, where he could see me and keep me awake.

The phone rang. After talking to someone for a few minutes, Dad said he was leaving and would be back soon. He said he had something to take care of. I didn't know it then, but he had left to identify Dallas's body. The phone rang again, and when I answered, the man on the other line said,

"Hello, Mrs. Winston? I'm calling about arrangements for Dallas Winston's funeral…" I slammed the phone back into place and went back to bed. Dad woke me up again, this time for lunch. He sat across from me, not letting me leave until I ate the entire sandwich.

After lunch, he made me do the make-up homework that Karen had brought me. I did math and English, a history worksheet and science definitions. I ate dinner, again not being allowed to leave until I ate all of it. I took a bath and went to bed. That night started the first night of no sleep.

In the dark, I stared up at the ceiling. When I closed my eyes, I saw Dally's face, so I kept them open. His voice kept playing in my head: _Get tough, and nothing can touch you._ I fought the sadness all night, telling myself not to cry.

I knew that Dad would stay as long as I acted like I wasn't okay. It's not that my father cared a great deal for me. It might have seemed that way to a total stranger, but I knew the truth. He was good at doing what he should do, whether he wanted to or not.

A father _should_ take care of a sick daughter. A father _should_ arrange a funeral for a dead son. A father _should_ love his children. I reckon two out of three isn't bad.


	8. Windward Circle Ch 7

AN: Hey, guys! I realized with the help of my lovely beta, whose reviews can always be found on my chapters, that a few things may be a bit confusing. Even though I am sticking to the book, I like a few of the things from the movie (i.e.: Soda yelling during Dally's death (I assumed it was Soda; it sounded like him to me); Dally's necklace), and have incorporated them into my story. Now, read on, read the reviews, and read Skittles work, too, please! :)

Going back to school on Wednesday would have been impossible if it weren't for Dally's reminder in my mind all day. When my home economics teacher pulled me to the side and broke down, telling me about her own brother who died young, I didn't cry. _Get tough. _

When the principal called me in to talk, I stared back at him blankly. _Nothing can touch you._ He sent a note with me. I broke the taped seal carefully, reading that he thought that I was doing as well as I could, considering the circumstances. That I was doing okay. What a fool that man was.

I didn't hear the whispers. I didn't see the looks. I took notes. I did my assignments. I made myself into the model student, hoping it would be enough to make people think I was fine and overlook me.

\When Evie and Karen asked me if I was okay, I shrugged them off. "Why wouldn't I be?" I asked and they looked at me like I had lost my marbles. Evie started to say more, but Karen cut her off.

"Ponyboy was in the hospital." That was news to me. "Was he?" I asked, more because they were waiting for an answer than because I wanted to talk.

"Yes," Evie said. "Stevie, he said Soda's been worried sick. He an' Darry ain't been to work at all since that night. Pony's been real sick." I honestly hadn't even noticed he wasn't in school.

After school we went to the DX, which was pretty normal for us. We always went to the DX after school so Sandy and Evie could see Soda and Steve. But Sandy was gone and Johnny and Dally were dead, but we were still doing things we had always done, like nothing at all had changed.

"Where's Sodapop?" I asked, realizing all of a sudden that he wasn't at the counter but Steve was. Usually Steve worked on the cars while Soda did all the up-front work. We all knew it was because Soda was so handsome. The manager knew it, too, and he made a lot more money with Soda there because girls would come with the smallest car problems just to see him.

They all turned to look at me funny. "Didn't you hear a word we've been sayin', Brookie? Ponyboy's still sick, so Soda and Darry are stayin' home with him until he gets to feelin' better." Steve talked to me real slow like I was dumb. Maybe I was. "They can't afford that," I said like it made any difference. Steve just shrugged and Evie squeezed my arm.

Tim walked in then, his eyes dry but puffy. "I thought I'd find you here, Brooklyn. Can I talk to you for a minute?" I slid off my counter stool and followed him outside to the high fence that sat outside the DX. Tim kind of tossed me up onto the ledge before jumping up himself.

"What's up, Tim?"

He lit a cigarette and took a drag before offering it to me. I was going to tell him no thanks, but he looked sad. I had never seen Tim Shephard look so heartbroken, so I put the cigarette in my mouth before even thinking about it.

"You doin' okay, kid?" Tim had always been like a brother to me. He was just like Dally. They weren't best friends for nothing. I just shrugged and Tim shrugged back.

"How's about the other kid? Heard he was real sick." I shrugged again.

"I guess so. That's what Kare said." We passed the cigarette back and forth quietly for a bit. I swung my legs. Tim ran the zipper of his black leather jacket up and down its track.

"When's the funeral?" If it weren't so quiet, I wouldn't have heard him. Tim stared down at his boots like he'd like to kill them if they were alive.

"Tomorrow." I started to shake a little bit, and not just from the cold. I closed my eyes and reminded myself not to cry. Tim shook his head and the wind picked up his dark, curly hair, making him look even wilder than usual for just a second.

"I guess I'll see you there, then." He pushed himself down and then turned, stretching his arms out to catch me. When my feet hit the ground, for just a second, Tim Shephard hugged me before letting go and looking a little embarrassed.

"See you there," I said, but he was already walking quickly down the street.

For my mother's funeral, I wore a hand-me-down dove gray dress that one of my older cousins had worn the previous year to her sister's wedding. For Dally's funeral, I wore one of my mother's black dresses. It was old, from the forties, and I had to take up the hem six inches because my mother had been so much taller than me.

I remembered, for my mother's funeral, my father had managed to braid my hair straight down my back. So that's how I did my hair that day, parted and braided down the middle. Even though I knew I wasn't going to cry because there was no way I would let myself, I didn't put any makeup on. I looked and felt like I was all of ten years old.

I hooked Dally's necklace around my neck. It had once been my mother's, a little medallion with a saint on it, but I couldn't tell you which one. After she died, Dally had started to wear it. It was police evidence for a few days, but when it was returned to us, Dad handed it to me without even looking at it. I reckoned that made it mine.

Dad was wearing the exact same suit he wore years ago to my mother's funeral, and his hair was parted off to the side. Unlike me, though, he looked an awful lot older than he was. We walked to the graveyard arm and arm because aside from the giant trucks he drove across the country for his work, Dad didn't have a car.

We were the first ones there, except for the preacher and Dally's casket. I refused to think that Dally was in there. Dally in a box? It was an impossible thought. I kept my hand rested on my father's arm, staring down at the grass. It was still green. How could the grass be alive when it was covering so much death?

Johnny was buried just after his death in the hospital cemetery. His parents turned his body over to them. They didn't even care enough to bury them, or have the conscious to go through the motions like my father did.

Tim was the first of Dally's friends to come. His eyes were puffy again, and he was in black literally head to toe, from his black hair to his black boots. Angela was a few steps behind him. I hoped Sylvia wouldn't show her face. In all the commotion of what had been going on, I had forgotten Dally's stupid on-again, off-again girlfriend. I would let Angela have a go at her if she came, I decided.

Karen and Evie came together. Darry stayed home with Ponyboy, but Steve, Soda, and Two-Bit came. Nobody even tried to smile. When I saw Buck Merril walk up, I nearly died myself of surprise. I didn't figure ol' Buck would come. Dally was more of a bully than a friend to him, but there he was. He even wore black and looked like he was sad.

Karen held on to my free hand. Funerals were old hat to me. A reading by a preacher, a lowering of the body, family members throwing dirt onto the coffin. That's exactly what went on that day. My mother's funeral, though, had been much bigger and had had a church service. Her whole family came and cried and hugged me and Dally, when Dally would allow it. But Dally's funeral had no church service. We were at a loss of what to do after he was covered in dirt.

Nobody cried at Dally's funeral. I knew the boys wouldn't. Greasers hardly ever cry. Karen and Angela and Evie all stayed dry eyed. I guess they were following my lead. Everyone stood around for a bit, but there was something I had to do.

I broke away from my father; squeezed Karen's hand and let go. I had to thank Sodapop Curtis for what he did. Maybe the other boys yelled too. Heck, I'm sure they did yell out to the cops that Dally was just a kid and not to shoot, but I had only heard Soda because he was so close to me when it happened. He was also the one who pulled me back. I don't know what I would have done if he hadn't. I might have joined Dally, and that thought scared me something awful.

I kept my eyes on the ground again. I hated seeing the pity and sadness in people's eyes, so I would just look at the ground.

"Thank you," I said, looking down on my shoes a few inches from his. He stooped forward, trying to look me in the eyes. I raised my head, but looked behind him at a tree.

"Thank you," I said again, "for that night." He didn't say anything. I saw him nod out of the corner of my eye.

"Are you okay?" He asked after I stood in front of him for probably longer than I should have. I just couldn't make myself move back towards the grave yet. _Get tough._

I tried to smile and told Soda my favorite lie, "I'm fine."


	9. Windward Circle Ch 8

It's funny how the world keeps going on. Thanksgiving and Christmas, they came and went. We didn't pay much attention to them, but then I guess no one really ever pays much attention to time and it still goes on. Ponyboy, he came back to school. Boy, did he ever mess things up for a while there. He forgot things, he was failing. I thought it was real funny because I was doing better than I ever had in school.

Pony wasn't trying to get tough like I was, though. He didn't have to pretend like he wasn't okay, because he still had his brothers. After a few weeks, people started to believe my lies. I would too, if I were on the outside looking in. Makeup kept people from knowing how often I didn't sleep. When Dad wasn't around to make sure I ate, Darry, Evie and Karen were. I did my schoolwork just because I knew if I did, it would make me tired enough to maybe get an hour of sleep.

Breaks from school were hard for me. I took up reading, actually. Ponyboy fed me a steady stream of novels, but I swear I wouldn't be able to tell you a word of what I read. I was lucky Pony was so quiet that he never asked. Things were going okay. Not good, but okay. We had all hit a routine. We were moving forward. And then I went with Karen to a New Year's Eve party out on Tim's side of town.

Shepard gang parties were always wild, and I have no idea what I was thinking. Well, yeah, I do. I was thinking _I'd like to beat Buck's face in._

"It's not bad, Brookie," Curly said, his arm wrapped around my waist. I'm not sure if he was using me to stand, or if he really wanted to hold on to me. I lean towards the first, because he was terribly drunk.

"I don't want to drink your beer, _Charles_." Curly hated when I used his first name, and I knew it. I also knew I was pushing my luck, talking to him like that with him so soused up, but I honestly didn't care. If he hit me, he hit me. That's when Buck, that good for nothing, bow legged cowboy, walked up to us.

"Broads don't like beer, Curly. Not the classy ones, anyway. Reckon this sweet little thing would rather have this." He handed a brown paper bag over to me. Buck was dead sober, and I could see the challenge in his eyes. I looked inside to find a Mason jar. Moonshine, of course. Buck was like Dally, refusing to do anything the legal way.

"Your brother, rest his soul, could knock that back like no other. What do ya say we find out if it's a family talent?" I know I shouldn't have done it, but there was Dally's voice again. _Get tough._ Instead of crying like I knew Buck wanted me to, I unscrewed the lid and started to drink straight from the jar. I was half way through it when Curly jerked the jar from my hand.

"Son of a bitch, Buck, I can't believe you did that! It's damn low, even for you." My stomach was rolling and I suddenly found that walking was no longer easy. I wanted to ask Curly to take me to Karen, but he could hardly walk himself and I was so scared that if I opened my mouth, I would puke.

"You should have let the little thing keep drinking. Maybe then she'd give you what you want." Curly let go of me to throw a right hook towards Buck's jaw, but it never did connect. Buck moved and Curly fell flat on his face. I was very wobbly without Curly to hold onto, but for some reason, I thought Curly falling was so funny that _I_ fell back laughing.

"Brooklyn Paige!" I cocked my head back to see Karen, and then I had to laugh some more because she was upside down. Then I had to laugh more because she looked so serious and I couldn't for the life of me figure out why. When I had myself under control, I copied her.

"Karen Diane!" She hooked me under the arms and pulled me up, wrapping her arm around my waist as Curly had. It occurred to me that I had lost him, so I stretched onto tiptoe to look for him. He was with Tim, ice pressed to his eye. Buck had belted him across the face.

"We need to find Angela." Both of us knew exactly where Angela was at these kinds of parties, and it was nowhere good.

"Why Ange?" Karen looked at me like I was speaking Spanish and shook her head. We found Evie and Steve before we found Angela. Steve choked on his beer when he saw me.

"Lordy, what happened to you, Brookie?" Karen kind of handed me off to Evie, and she said something to her before leaving, but I didn't catch it. The lights were way brighter in the kitchen where they were, and it was making me want to puke again. When Karen came back, she had Angela with her. Angela's hair was nothing short of a mess.

"We ought to make her puke it up. Let's get her to the bathroom. Bring some water, would you, doll?" Puking did not sound like fun at all to me. Who would want to puke? Besides, Angela had always told me that pretty girls don't puke. When I told her as much, she gave a hard laugh and forced the cup to my lips.

I puked, alright. I puked for so long I thought my whole stomach would come up. Angela held my hair back for me while Karen sat on the edge of the tub, rubbing my back and telling me it was okay. By the time I was done, I was feeling lousy.

"When she sobers up, I'd give her a working over if I were you, Karen." I leaned my head against Karen's legs. My whole stomach and throat hurt from throwing up, and I really wanted to go to bed. I felt Karen start to play with my hair.

"You can't really blame her, Angela. I mean, this is the first time she's messed up since… Anyway, this has been a long time comin'," Karen said. I opened my eyes in time to see Angela stand up, make a half-hearted effort to right her hair and pull her skirt down, and leave.

"I want to go home," I whined to Karen and she sighed. She pushed me off of her legs and made me stand, again wrapping her arm around my waist. Angela's short skirts kind of made sense to me in that moment. My skirt was making it awfully hard for me to walk.

"I know you do. But I can't leave without Two-Bit, you know that. Let's see if we can't find Soda to take you home." Sodapop being at the party sure was news to me. He usually didn't show up to these kind of parties, unless it was for dancing, and New Year's was strictly a get drunk party. Soda didn't drink, so why would he be there? I found out later he was there to make sure Steve and Evie got home okay.

"Brookie… what a mess you've made of yourself," Soda said once Karen had passed me off to him. I clung to his arm, smiling up at him. He shook his head at me and started to try to get me to walk forward. I tripped as soon as we took a step.

"Whoa, there!" He caught me right before my face met the ground. I didn't even try to catch myself. I laughed, because it was funny. Soda was always saving me from danger by wrapping his arms around my waist.

"How's about a piggy back ride?" He didn't really give me a choice, all but swinging me onto his back. I was glad then that my skirt was long and I had on hose underneath. Drunk as I was, I knew the last thing I needed was for the world to see my panties.

"Pretty hair," I said, running my fingers through Soda's hair and watching the light glint off of it. Somewhere between walking out the door and getting home, I fell asleep while Soda carried me. I didn't wake up again until I was suddenly standing on my own two feet again. I almost fell, and Soda grabbed my arm.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you fell asleep," Soda whispered to me. It was dark, and I could hear fireworks going off. The city always set off fireworks for the last five minutes until New Year's. I rubbed my eyes, smearing makeup all over my hands and face.

"Where are we?" I asked. I honestly had no idea. It was too dark to see, except for when a firework burst into the air. Those were just quick flashes, though, so I never got to really look during them. Sodapop shushed me.

"Be quiet. We're outside your house. Take those heels off. We're going to climb you through your bedroom window." I tried to bend over and do as he said, but I found myself sitting on the ground instead. I smiled up at Soda and he sighed, crouching down in front of me. He pulled my feet into his lap and started to undo my shoes.

"If you were a boy," he said, sliding one shoe and then the other off my feet, "I'd bash your head in for this." I was playing with his hair again. He grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. When a really bright firework went off, painting his face blue, he put his finger to his lips. _Shhh. _He pulled his pocket knife out and started to jimmy open my window. I twirled, making my dress float out around me while he worked.

"Lavender's blue, dilly, dilly; lavender's green. When you are king, dilly, dilly, I shall be queen," I sang quietly while twirling. Fireworks burst in the sky. 1964 was running out. I was twirling in a party dress. Sodapop Curtis was breaking my window pane.

My twirling stopped when Sodapop took my hand again. He put his finger to his lips again, and the lifted me up by the waist. My window wasn't very high, but I wouldn't have been able to get in without his help. I sat down on the floor, humming, while Soda passed me my shoes and then pulled himself into the room. He hooked me under the arms, pulling me up.

"Let's get you to bed." I couldn't hear the fireworks any more. For that last minute, they stop the show, and then when the clock strikes twelve, they go off again. Soda pulled my covers back and made me lay down. He started to tuck me in. I finished my song.

"Who told you so, dilly, dilly; who told you so? 'Twas my own heart, dilly, dilly; 'twas my own heart that told me so." Sodapop shook his head, but I could see he was half smiling at me. I smiled back at him. He brushed my hair back off my face and leaned down, pressing his lips to my forehead at the same time the fireworks started again.

"Goodnight, Brooklyn Paige."


	10. Windward Circle Ch 9

Sodapop told my daddy on me.

"I can't believe he did that! What was that boy thinkin', runnin' his mouth instead of keepin' it shut?" Evie was riling mad when I told her and Karen a few days later. I just shrugged. I didn't really care whether Soda had told my father one way or another. It's not like any of what he did was out of actual heart-felt caring anyhow.

"Reckon he thought he was helpin'?" I'd noticed it before that Karen carries a nail file with her just about everywhere and that she files her nails all the time, but never had it grated on my nerves like it had been lately. I never used to notice the sound of the little board against her nail before. Once I did, it drove me up a wall. I gritted my teeth. I didn't want to yell at her, but she was grinding on my nerves.

All three of us were in our cooking class, where we should have been making chicken pot pie. Only problem was Karen was filing her nails and Evie was braiding her hair and I was doing all the work. I knew I never really cared about school work before, but after I started to do my work regularly and starting getting such good grades, I kind of liked it. I could see why Ponyboy kept it up. Plus only idiots flunk out of cooking, and I may have been a lot of things, but I wasn't an idiot.

"What'd your dad do, Brookie? I bet he threw a damned fit, huh?" All of my friends thought that since Dad looked so much like Dally, he had Dally's temper too. That wasn't passed on, though, that was made on New York's rough side. We saw more of that than Dad ever did, driving his truck routes.

"No. He wasn't that mad." I don't know if that was exactly a lie or just an understatement.

I woke up to a very angry father. The night before, he had been so happy to hear I was going out. I figured it was because most of the time, I holed myself up in my room and that wouldn't do. That meant I wasn't okay, and a good father is supposed to make sure his daughter is okay. Having a daughter that is so drunk she can't walk herself home is more than not okay.

The first thing Dad did was turn the light on in my room and open the curtains. This made it entirely too bright and I pulled my covers over my face. He just pulled them off, and then he threw some clothes at me.

"Get dressed. We're going to church." I hadn't been to church since the funeral service for my mother. Lordy, my mouth tasted awful. I buried my face in my pillow and mumbled that I wanted to go back to sleep, not to church. Suddenly, I was sitting straight up.

My father's finger nails dug into my shoulders. We were nose to nose, those ice blue eyes so like Dally's looking straight into mine for the first time in years. I could smell his aftershave and see all of the wrinkles that had worked their way into his face. My father was not very old. He was only nineteen when Dallas was born. Thirty-six was too young for him to have such deep lines. It was too young to have lost a wife and son, too.

"Brooklyn. Paige. Winston. I am not losing you, too. If you ever come home like that again, there will be hell to pay. Now get dressed."

I don't think my father had spoken so directly to me since I was six years old. I don't know if it was divinity, pure luck, or if Dad still remembered church schedules, but it just so happened to be a Communion day on that first Sunday of 1965. Dad watched me like he expected me to go up in flames when I took the wafer and juice.

After the service, while we were eating the soup that Dad had made, he told me that Soda told. I had thought that maybe we had got caught, but no, Soda left me high and dry.

"Boy woke me out of a dead sleep, sayin' you weren't in your right mind. Figured maybe you were sick, but no he said you been drinkin'. Let me tell you, girl, you are damn lucky it was one of your brother's friends that brought you home. They may be hoods, but them boys are still good people."

"They're my friends, too," I said into my soup. I knew Dad didn't think it was proper for girls and boys to really be considered friends. I knew I was pushing buttons, trying to get a rise out of him. I was acting like Dally. Dad just shook his head and sighed and that was the last time we spoke before he went back to work.

"At least you don't have that problem to worry about. Mom was right raisin' hell over Two-Bit, but it's not like she ever does anythin' to that boy. I ever come home like he does, there wouldn't be anythin' left of me." Karen rolled her eyes and slipped her nail file back into her purse. We all knew Two-Bit could get away with murder. Nobody could stay mad at that boy. He smiled that goofy smile of his and you were done for. It worked for him every time. How else could he get out of jailing so often?

"Maybe Soda helpin' like he did means that boy's finally gettin' over Sandy." None of us ever talked much about Sandy, and especially not in front of the guys. She had been gone for about three months by then. Honestly, I hadn't thought much about her since she left. I hoped she was doing good and all but she just never crossed my mind.

Soda on the other hand was another story. He had ignored girls for the longest time. You'd think that would mean that sales at the DX would have started to tank, but they actually went up. Just about every girl in town, whether she was going with a boy or not, was trying to cheer up the sad and handsome Sodapop Curtis.

I cut my eyes over at Evie.

"They'll want you to go to the counselor's office, talkin' nonsense like that." She just laughed. She knew I was still bitter about my brief sessions with the counselor immediately following Johnny and Dally's deaths. Cherry, me, Pony…we were all supposed to meet regularly with the lady. I think Cherry is the only one who still does. Pony suddenly got better. As far as the lady was considered, there was never anything wrong with me and I told her as much before I started ditching the sessions. Eventually she stopped sending notes to class asking for me.

I knew that even though Evie never said much about it, she missed Sandy something awful. Sandy had been her best friend, just like Soda and Steve. I still remember how they thought they would be with those boys forever, two sets of best friends dating and all. Well, I figure Sandy wasn't as sure about that as Evie was. Evie was real good at hiding things, too, though.

"You and Ponyboy still workin' on that project after school? If you are, I might as well go with you to the house to wait for Stevie to get off of work." Evie absolutely loved that not only did her given name—Eve—rhymed with Steve, but that their nicknames did, too. Tough girl she was, she was all softness for Steve.

"Yeah, I am. What are you gonna do, Kare?" We all knew the answer to that one. After Soda had taken me home from that party, Curly sobered up quick after getting that black eye. On Monday, the greasers had been telling tales all through the hallway of Curl and Kare dancing and kissing. Karen blushed a deep red that just made her silvery blonde hair look even lighter.

"Bet you're real glad Curly got out of reform school for his 'good behavior', huh, Karen?" I was real happy for her. Nobody knew but me, but Karen always had a thing for Curly, ever since we were little kids.

Hours later, while I was working with Ponyboy, he sent me up to the attic. We needed yarn to use as reigns and lassos in our diorama of the Wild West. He said that they should have had some in the attic, that they had put a lot of their parents' things into storage up there.

It was dusty and the ceiling was so low even I had trouble standing up straight. The light wasn't very bright, but I found the trunk Ponyboy had told me to look for. Downstairs, I could hear Two-Bit give a yell and tackle somebody to the floor. Steve, by the sounds of the yelling. Sodapop was playing Elvis records louder than necessary so that he could hear them while he showered.

There was yarn in the trunk, all right. When I picked up some of it, wound into perfect balls, a yellow envelope fell out. My name and Dally's were written on it in my mother's hand. I had just slid my finger under the lip when I heard Two-Bit shouting.

"Brookie! Pony figures you done went and died up there. If you're alive, knock once for yes and twice for no." He let loose his crazy laugh, and I could hear skin connecting. Someone had punched him.

"She can't answer if she's dead, bonehead." Pony was getting sassy lately. I folded the envelope in half and shoved it into my pocket. I didn't have a clue what could be inside, but I knew I couldn't read it there at the Curtis house.

I decided, instead, I'd take it to Dally.


	11. Windward Circle Ch 10

I took the letter to Dally. I felt like he should get to hear it, too. I skipped school a few days after I found the letter. In my backpack, I packed a blanket, hot chocolate in one of Dad's thermoses, the letter, and a bottle of beer. It wasn't for myself. I gave up drinking after that party. The beer was for Dallas.

I hated the idea of walking over the dead. I don't know why. Even when I was little and went to my mother's funeral, I hated it. I cried so much over the thought that Dally got mad and yelled at Dad to carry me. I had never been to the Tulsa cemetery until Dally's funeral. Even then I walked between the aisles of graves, hoping I didn't accidently step on someone's feet.

When I got to his grave, I lied down beside it on the blanket. I didn't like to think of Dally as stiff on his back, hands at his side. I always imagined that he was asleep forever the same way he always slept, on his stomach, hugging his pillow to himself, all that white-blond hair falling over his face. I lied down on my stomach, pulling the letter out.

"Sorry I haven't been by to see you," I wasn't really sure how you talk to the dead.

"I found this in Darry's attic. Wild, huh? I don't know why it was there. I didn't think to ask. I haven't read it yet. I was waiting to bring it to you."

The letter felt heavy in my hand. I reckoned that meant there would be a really long letter. I thought it meant I would finally know why she did it. I slid one of Karen's nail files that somehow found its way into my bag across the envelope. There was only one piece of lined paper in there.

"I'm sorry. Mama. That's all it says, Dal." When I turned over the envelope, pictures fell out. They were all of us. Dally and me when we were younger. When it all happened, we thought she had got rid of all the pictures around the house.

"I don't know why Dad hid this from us, Dally. But I'm gonna find out." I stayed with him for a little while, looking through all those pictures from our childhood. Seeing Dally's younger face didn't hurt the way picturing his seventeen-year-old face did.

When I got up, I sat the beer carefully beside his gravestone. At first, I didn't think Two-Bit was going to give it to me. He was right mad when I asked for one. I thought he was gonna bite my head off until I told him it was for Dallas. Then his ears got real red and he looked sheepish when he handed it over.

"Aren't you supposed to leave flowers?" I near jumped out of my skin when I heard Sodapop's voice behind me. His eyes were red and puffy and there was a spot on his cheek still wet.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to see Mom and Dad. It's the anniversary, you know." I didn't. I forgot. A year ago that day, Mr. and Mrs. Curtis had died. "I brought flowers. It's traditional, classic. Beer's good too, though."

He gave me a little shrug. Even though he'd been crying, he wasn't hiding it. He was even joking around.

"You know Dal. He'd tell me to cut out the sissy stuff if he ever knew I left him flowers." I started packing up. I didn't realize I dropped the one photo not of me and Dally, a wedding photo. My parents were just nineteen and seventeen when they were married. Soda stooped and picked it up before I even knew I missed it.

"Soda…" He was holding it far enough away from himself that he could compare it to me.

"You look a lot like her." I reached my hand out for the picture. He gave it back, but he took my hand and pulled me forward, too. Soda held my hand, my parent's wedding photo between our palms.

"It's okay to miss him, you know. It's okay to come talk to him. It helps." I looked up at him, really in his eyes this time, not like the last time we were in this cemetery together.

"Thank you for New Year's," I said and pulled my hand away. I started to make my way back through the cemetery when he yelled after me.

"For which part? Taking you home or the kiss?" I turned to face him, putting my hand on my hip and rolling my eyes.

"Figure it out!"

I decided to just go back home. There wasn't much else for me to do. I'd get in more trouble showing up for school so late than I would for not going at all. I could have visited Angela—she skipped school more than anyone I knew, even Dally, and he had been a near dropout. How she hadn't been expelled for not going to school, I'll never know.

Dad wasn't going to be back home for another week. I put Mom's letter on his bedside table and went to my room. I figured I might as well do some homework since I skipped school. That way I wouldn't have to do it when I went over to the Curtis house later. When my father was gone, I would eat either at the Curtis house or the Mathews house. He always left me money for lunch at school and to go out on the weekends, but food was scarce in the house when he was away. Not much was in the house other than cereal, milk, bread, and peanut butter.

Darry was the only one home whenever I got to the house. I guessed Soda went back to work and I knew Pony hadn't left his track practice yet.

"Hello, Darrel," I said when I walked into the kitchen. He had a bag of peas waiting for me to shell.

"Hello, Brooklyn," Darry smiled at me the way he always did, closed lipped and quick. He hardly ever smiled. Darry used to be real different. He used to be like Soda and Ponyboy smashed together: smart and sweet, but also laughing and smiling. Losing his parents and having to take on the boys as responsibilities hardened him but quick.

"Darry, when you were movin' your parents stuff around, did you find a letter with mine and Dally's names on it?" He looked over at me like I was crazy. I just kept shelling.

"I wasn't snooping, I swear. But when me and Pony were workin' on that project and he sent me up to the attic to find some yarn, I found a letter in your momma's knitting basket. It had our names on it."

Darry moved from where he was standing at the stove to sit across from me at the table. He crossed his arms over his chest. Not for the first time, I noticed how big Darry is. It looked like his arms were just aching to burst out of his sleeves. Never would I wish to be on the other end of his fist.

"I didn't know anything about it. Who was it from?" I looked over to the clock. I didn't want Ponyboy or especially not Soda to walk in while I was talking to Darry. I felt like I could tell Darry the truth. He would understand. Even though Pony thought that all Darry cared about was getting onto him, the rest of us knew that Darry was always looking out for all of us. He was the oldest, and when he stepped into the role of father for Soda and Pony, he did it for all of us. Twenty was mighty young for that, but he carried the weight.

"It was from my mother," I said, focusing on the peas I was shelling. They were all alike. Perfectly round, green peas falling from their safe sleeves to the bowl.

"She said she was sorry. That was all." Darry opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by a very excited Ponyboy. He tore through the door like I'd never seen. He was calling Darry's name, and when he found him, he grabbed his arm. Pony's hair was still off, half of it being bleached and the other half his natural red-brown.

"Darry, guess what? I made it! I get to run for state. I just barely got through the qualifying round, but I did it!" Pony was practically bouncing he was so happy.

"That's great, little buddy!" I knew Darry saying that made Ponyboy real happy. He was even happier whenever Darry rubbed his head hard but loving, like he did to Soda. Pony started telling Darry all about his qualifying run and how if the school makes it to regionals, he'll get to go to Santa Fe, New Mexico. I was only a year older than Ponyboy, but for some reason I felt years older than him while I watched him smile and motion.

I smiled and went back to shelling peas. It didn't take long for Sodapop to get home, and then the story had to be repeated once again. Soda picked him up and spun him. I wondered how much longer he'd be able to do that. Pony was growing fast.

During supper, Soda kept catching my eye. I guess I should have known something was coming my way. It was my turn to wash and his turn to dry after supper. I almost dropped one of the slippery plates when I tried to hand it to him, and we both reach for it at the same time. I caught it before he could, but his hand closed over mine anyway.

"That was almost bad," he said and offered me a smile. I just pushed the plate toward him. We were reaching the end of our dishes when he talked again.

"Do you want to talk about today?" His brown eyes were boring into my cheek. I didn't look up at him. I hardly ever looked people in the eye anymore. Dally never did, either. He'd always look a little up or a little down when talking to people, unless he was about to fight them.

"Nope," I said, handing him the last dish. Sodapop didn't make any effort to hide his sigh. He didn't ask again that night.

It was dark by the time the dishes were done. Even with the new pact with the Socs, walking alone at night didn't feel safe in the least bit. When Soda offered to walk me home, I let him, even though I was worried he'd go to asking me questions again.

We didn't talk much, just about school and mostly Ponyboy. The whole gang had taken to watching Ponyboy like he was a baby. We just couldn't help it. He was the youngest and he'd been through more than a fourteen year old should.

When we got to my door, I turned to tell Soda bye. He hugged me instead, pulling me against him and wrapping his arms around me tight before I could do anything about it. I was short enough that he could rest his head on top of mine.

"One day, Brookie, you're gonna want to talk. When that day comes, I'll be here for you." He held onto me until I hugged him back. I hadn't been held in a long time. It felt weird. Soda let go after a while. Whenever he did, I'm sure I was blushing.

"'Night, Sodapop," I said and went inside before he could say anything back. I didn't know how to act during that whole ordeal. It made me embarrassed, to be honest.

I figure I should have known then I'd end up falling in love with him.


	12. Windward Circle Ch 11

Going to the DX after school had been a habit for me, Evie, and Karen for a long time. I shouldn't have felt nervous, but I did. Not just over Sodapop, either. It was Monday, and I was expecting my father home some time that night.

Evie was all bounces, excited as always to see Steve. Never mind the fact that we had all seen Steve not even an hour ago at school. It was like Evie and Steve were only whole when they were around each other.

Karen was walking hand-in-hand with me. We had always walked this way together since we met when we were little. With her going steady with Curly, though, it had become a joke with our friends. '_Brooklyn's tryin' to steal your girl, Curly',_ the boys would tease. I was sad whenever Karen dropped my hand, because I felt safer somehow with mine clasped to hers.

Karen left me for her usual spot in the corner where she filed her nails while Evie flirted with Steve. Evie was already headed toward the back, where Steve was working. Soda was at the counter like he usually was. Their boss wasn't stupid. Steve was a car genius and Soda was handsome and charming. He sure made a lot of money off those two boys.

There was Soda, a straw wedged between his teeth, leaning over the counter to flirt with two Soc girls. They were dressed much better than we were, with wool skirts that weren't too short because they'd half outgrown them like Karen, Evie, and me wore. Their shoes were shiny and new, not patched and scuffed. Being around Socs really made you feel lousy.

Soda should've been an actor. As soon as those girls left, his face changed. He went from carefree and flirty to looking like he'd been sitting there, completely bored by what just happened. Soda shook his head, frowning, while he watched them go. When he turned to me and Karen, his usual smile was on his face and his brown eyes dancing.

"I get off soon. Can I walk you home?" Soda asked, making sure he was able to look me in the eye when he asked. I felt my face start to get hot. I had to look down at the counter, but I knew I was blushing redder than a tomato.

"Yeah," I said. My voice sounded funny, like it was too high. I could feel Karen smirking at me. I hit her hard on the thigh. Soda gave me a smile and then disappeared into the back of the shop. Karen pounced as soon as he was gone.

"What was that all about?" she asked, twirling a sucker she'd swiped from the candy selection when Soda wasn't looking. Her and Two-Bit were always risking getting Sodapop and Steve in trouble in the DX by stealing stuff. They never did get caught, though.

"It was nothing," I said, trying to shoo her away. It didn't work. I'm sure she would have said more, only Evie came back looking flushed. No doubt, she'd been kissing Steve and Soda had caught them. I glared at Karen and hoped she'd have the sense to keep her trap shut.

I only thought that I would be lucky enough to keep it from Evie and save myself more teasing. Evie proved me wrong when she winked at me and hooked her arm through Karen's.

"We really must be gettin' home, doll. Have fun on your date." They were giggling when they left. I'd like to have smacked them. I was fuming, watching them go.

Soda scared me, laying his hand on my shoulder when he came back out. He had my jacket in his hand, and he helped me put it on whenever I slid off of the stool at the counter.

"Ready to go?" He asked, and when I nodded, I looped his arm with mine. I blushed again. The sun was setting fast, and the wind was picking up, but it was almost warm. Spring was coming fast. I watched Soda kick a rock for a few blocks.

"Penny for your thoughts," Soda said. He smiled and bumped his shoulder against mine. I smiled back. It was a real smile. They were getting to be easier to come by.

I cocked an eyebrow and said, "Askin' price is higher than that, darlin'." Sodapop threw his head back and laughed, but I knew he was seriously asking why I was so quiet. I still couldn't bring myself to tell Sodapop about my mother's letter. Telling Darry had been hard enough. Pony was always right, though, and Soda understood enough not to ask anymore when I didn't say anything.

When we got to my house, Soda opened the squeaky gate and gave a bow like he was some old time gentlemen. I couldn't help but laugh. He even finished his little act by calling me 'Madame' and keeping his face completely serious until I walked through. When he took my arm again, he was smiling.

We stopped at my doorstep, and I wasn't sure what was going to come next. I'd been kissed before at the end of dates with boys much rougher than Sodapop Curtis. Walking me home wasn't exactly a date, but still. I knew things with me and Soda were changing, I just didn't know how fast it would.

He didn't kiss me, but he did pull me in for a hug like the last time he'd walked me home. Difference that time was I hugged him back. I was still thinking of what hell could happen when my dad got home, though. He usually didn't get home until real late when he did come home, but I was probably going to be up anyway.

"You're dad's coming home today, ain't he?" I nodded into his shirt. Somewhere, someone cat-called. I pushed away from Soda and blushed. He laughed and twirled a piece of my long hair around his finger.

"You have fun with your dad." I rolled my eyes. I could've honestly told him that the last time that'd happened I was all of five years old. I wasn't exactly what you'd call a daddy's girl.

"You have fun with your brothers," I said. He smiled real big. Soda had the kind of smile that made you smile back at him.

"I always have fun. You ought to know that by now, Brooklyn Paige." It was true. We hardly ever saw that boy with anything less than a smile. And when he wasn't smiling, it was for a good reason. Walking backwards and waving, Soda started to leave. He was such a clown. Once, he and Two-Bit got jailed for walking on their hands down the street and 'disturbing the peace'.

I smiled and waved until he finally turned himself around halfway down the block. When I got inside, I looked around for signs that my father had come home early. I was nervous about him finding the letter, but I didn't want to take it back either. _Get tough._

He wasn't there, though, so I decided to clean. I was pretty sure when either of us cleaned, we didn't open Dally's door. I know I sure didn't. I thought Dad was just following my lead about not opening Dally's room up.

I was still really nervous after I cleaned, so I decided to cook. I knew that Dad got home late a lot when he was traveling back home, but I was still so worried that he'd be back early. I didn't want to take the letter back. I wanted him to know I found it and he'd been caught. I just wasn't sure what he'd do. It was okay, though, because I had Dally's voice in my head, _nothing can touch you._

There was another thing that was sticking on my mind. It wasn't Soda. It was those Socy girls. We hadn't seen many Socs around ever since the rumble. They'd stuck to their promise but good. I wasn't used to seeing them outside of school. It was unsettling how they just walked into the DX like they owned the place. Maybe it did have a lot to do with Sodapop. I just didn't want to admit it. Away from Soda, it felt kind of wrong because of Sandy.

Sandy. I had completely forgotten that around New Year's, she had written me a letter. No, it came on New Year's, but I was too upset to read it. And then I was too drunk and too hung over. I remembered then, I threw it on my dressing table and forgot about it. It had been over a month. Poor Sandy probably thought I forgot about her.

I completely forgot the potatoes I had been frying. I all but ran to my room, tearing through a mess of stockings and blouses on my dresser to find the letter. It was post marked from January, and it was early March when I finally got around to reading it. I felt like a lousy friend. I wondered if she'd had her baby yet. She never did tell me how far along she was only that it wasn't Soda's baby. Then she left before any of us could find out.

I sat down in my floor and used the edge of a bobby pin to cut the letter open. This one was light, but I had already learned not to judge a letter by its weight. It was written on pink paper, and I had to smile. It was such a Sandy-like thing to do, writing on pink paper.

_Brooklyn,_

_ How is everyone in Tulsa? Florida is awfully different from home. I miss it. I guess I'm doing okay. I don't have any friends here. I go to a school just for girls. A lot of them are like me. Some of them don't keep their babies. I'm not sure if I will. I asked you to keep a secret from Soda before. Remember? Now could you give him something for me? There's another letter with this one. It's for him._

_ I miss you,_

_ Sandy._

A better person wouldn't have read the second letter. I never said I was a good person.

_Sodapop,_

_ I still love you. I never meant to hurt you. It was so stupid of me to do what I did. You were so sad over your parents, though. When we had that fight, I don't know. I just snapped. I'm so sorry for what I did. I had an idea. If I give the baby up and move back to Tulsa, would you forgive me? We could go back to the way things were before. I don't think it would be so bad._

_ I love you,_

_ Sandy._

I didn't know what to do. I sat on my floor for a long time. I stared at the letters for so long the words got blurry. It was too much too fast. I couldn't take the thought of losing Sodapop, even though I didn't really have him.

The sound of the screen door opening scared me so bad I nearly jumped out of my skin. My father was home at long last.

"Brooklyn, you tryin' to burn the house down?" Oh, the potatoes. They must've been burned to a crisp. I stuffed the letters back into the envelope and threw it under my pillow.

"I'm awful sorry, Dad," I said when I made it to the kitchen. "I forgot. I only meant to leave for a minute, but I got distracted."

"I reckon you did," he said. But he wasn't mad when he dumped the food into the trash. I thought he'd be raging. We didn't have the money to be wasting food, but he didn't holler at me or anything. I was getting real anxious with him home. He would find my mother's letter when he went to bed for sure.

Even though his face was covered in stubble and there were bags under his eyes, I didn't feel bad for what I had done. He deserved to know I knew he was hiding stuff from us. I hoped it made him upset.

Dad fixed supper while I did my homework at the table. He told me about New Orleans, where he had just left. He asked about my grades and friends. _Maybe he ought to be an actor instead of Soda,_ I thought.

Late at night, there was a knock on my door frame. I always slept with the door open. I didn't close my eyes fast enough. My father knew I was awake. Even though it was dark, I could see the envelope in his hand.

"We gotta talk about this," he said. I wasn't prepared for the talk that followed.


	13. Windward Circle Ch 12

"Are you _tryin'_ to act like your brother?" Dad said, throwing the envelope onto the table. I shrugged. I didn't know why this couldn't have waited until the morning, when I wasn't wearing a nightgown and my bangs weren't pinned to set their curl.

Dad had been pacing before the table. I was sitting down. He stopped and turned, placing his hands on the table and leaning toward me.

"This isn't you, Brooklyn. This way you been actin', it ain't right." I cocked an eyebrow at him. I was acting like Dally, and I knew it. This was my revenge, though. I wanted him to know how much it had hurt us to have our mother die and then to be all but abandoned by our father. I wanted Dad to know I was blaming him for Dally dying.

"Where'd you find this?" He asked, tapping the envelope.

"It was in the Curtis's attic," I said, not looking away from his eyes. It was something I'd seen Dally do. He would stare people down with his ice blue eyes. Mine were different than his, though, a softer blue-green. I didn't know if it would have the same effect. Dad and Dally had the same eyes. I didn't like looking at Dad's, because it reminded me of Dally. But I wasn't about to lose—_get tough._

"What, so now you go lurkin' 'round people's attics?" I had to roll my eyes at that. I knew it would make Dad madder than heck, but I did it anyway. "Don't you roll your eyes at me, girl," he added.

"I think the real question, Father, is why were you hidin' stuff like that from your kids?" I said, and tapped the letter myself. It was just lying in the middle of the table like an island.

"Did you ever stop to consider _why_ I would give that to the Curtis family for safe keepin'?" Safe keeping? More like hiding it.

"Why won't you just admit you were hidin' it?" I nearly hollered at him. Dally and me weren't very much alike in a lot of ways, but we both had bad tempers.

"Why wouldn't I hide a suicide note from my young children?" he hollered back at me. Bad tempers kind of ran in the Winston family.

"You did it because you blame us for her doin' it and we knew it!" I couldn't stop myself from saying it anymore. Tears were stinging at my eyes, but I refused to cry in front of him.

It was quiet for a long time after that. Both of us just stared at each other. I reckon we made one heck of a picture, me in my nightgown and my hair all pinned and him in his robe, white blond hair wild. I wondered if Dallas would look more like Dad if he had gotten to grow up, or would he have still looked a lot like me? Both of us had the high cheekbones of our mother, and tiny pointed chins. But Dallas also had our Dad's straight nose, his square jaw, not to mention his coloring. I was the spitting image of my mother. I even had her pale skin, freckles, strawberry blond hair that was redder than it was blond and blue-green eyes.

"Is that really what you think? Did Dallas think that way?" I nod. He wasn't angry the way I was waiting for him to get. Instead, he looked really sad.

"Why would y'all ever think that?" There were tears in his eyes. He didn't let them fall either.

"Because it's true. We were home when it happened, and you weren't. Afterwards you practically abandoned us." I crossed my arms when I said it. Then I nodded. I was right, and he was wrong.

"Is that what Dallas filled your head with?" That made me madder than heck. I stood up so fast, my chair was wobbling.

"Don't blame this on Dally!" I placed my hands on the table and leaned forward, copying him. "Don't you ever blame stuff that's your fault on him." I was shaking with anger.

I expected Dad to yell back at me, but he was shaking his head. The look he gave me was so sad. I didn't know what to do.

"Brooklyn. Baby Doll, you've got it all wrong." He reached forward, touching a piece of my hair. It reminded me of Sodapop just hours ago. I backed up away from him. "You don't know how wrong you are, honey."

The chair was pressing hard against the backs of my knees. I pushed farther against it. I needed the pain to know what was going on was real.

"What do you mean?" I asked. I wasn't so sure I wanted to hear the answer. It was coming anyway.

"Y'all were so young. I should've known y'all wouldn't understand it. Your momma was sick, Brooklyn. She was always sad. Even when she was smilin' she was sad deep down. That kinda sadness, you just can't fix it. Not even if you have a little boy who wants to be a firefighter when he grows up and a little girl who blows soap bubbles usin' forks."

I didn't think he would remember things like that. I barely let myself remember, the memories hurt so bad.

"There was no way to stop what was happenin'. Maybe there was, but it was too late by the time I realized what was goin' on. I'm just thankful to God that He gave me y'all before He took her."

I couldn't hardly breathe.

"Then why did Dally go and do the same damn thing?" I asked before I could stop myself from cussing. It didn't make any sense.

"Maybe he was sick, too, Baby Doll." When he said it, I could see the tears in his eyes start to fall. I had never thought that Dally dying had hurt him the way it hurt me. I had known Mama dying hurt him. I thought it hurt him so bad he hated his children for it.

I was like Dallas after Johnny died. I couldn't take the sadness. Only the difference between me and my brother was that I could shoulder my own sadness, just not my father's. I looked out the window and saw that the sun had risen.

"I have to get ready for school," I said stupidly. In my room I took the pins from my bangs and fluffed them before putting on makeup and getting dressed in a sweater and long skirt. Spring was coming, but it was still too cold to wear anything lighter. I guess Dad went back to his room or something because he wasn't in the kitchen when I walked back through.

The first place I went was the DX. I knew Soda would be working alone since it was morning and Steve had school. He was wiping down the counters when I walked in. Looking up, he smiled at me but I just couldn't make myself smile back.

"What's the matter with you, Brookie?" he asked, throwing his rag onto the counter and walking around to the other side.

"Nothin'," I lied. "Ain't I allowed to just come see you before school?" Soda put his hand under my chin so that I was forced to look up at him. I could tell he didn't believe me.

"Why don't we talk 'bout it after school, huh?" I didn't even know I was all tensed up until I let out a breath and my whole body relaxed.

"Yeah," I said. "Let's do that." I gave him a real smile when he hugged me after that.

"Just have a good day at school, okay? Don't go lettin' this get to you." I nodded against his shoulder and he let me go.

At school, Evie and Karen could tell something was off. I'd been doing better lately. They had stopped babysitting me for a while, but now they were treating me like the wind would break me like they did right after Dally died.

"Brooklyn!" I near jumped out of my skin at the sound of Karen's voice. She pulled the pair of scissors from my hand. "You nearly cut my hand off! What's wrong with you?"

"Oh. I was just thinkin'." She rolled her eyes and took over my job of cutting the fabric for the stupid throw pillow we had to make in the sewing section of our home economics class.

"Well, stop it. Never did you no good, anyways," she tried to joke, but I was distracted by thoughts of my mother and Dally. Even though I could have been mistaken for her sister if she were still alive, was it Dallas that was more like her? My mother had been fragile and her moods changed like the weather. Dallas had always _seemed_ steady, but was he really?

Evie had to snap me out of it again at lunch. "You have to eat, kid." She all but shoved some of her salad into my mouth. A drink of her Coca-Cola followed soon after.

"I'm fine," I said over and over to brush them off. Finally they just stopped asking, and Karen slipped her hand in mine and I felt a little better.

"This some kind of two-for-one deal?" Curly asked, coming up behind us in the hallway later that day and throwing his arms around our shoulders. He smelled like his leather jacket and aftershave, and very faintly, beer.

"You go drinking last night, Curly?" I asked. Now that Curly was getting older, Tim had started letting him in on binges. This scared me. I didn't want them to die like had Dally died.

"Maybe a little," he said. Karen pushed his face away when he leaned in for a kiss. Unlike her brother, who could probably win a beer drinking contest, Karen hated even the smell of beer, let alone the taste.

"Don't be mad," I heard Curly whisper to her before I left them alone. The school day was almost over. The only class I had left was chemistry, which I didn't particularly like to go to. I didn't particularly like to skip school, either. It had always kind of bothered me and made me feel guilty, which was weird considering we were lucky to see Dally in school once every few months. That day, though, I just couldn't sit still any longer. I needed to move and I needed to think.

I really needed to talk to Sodapop.

I could have gotten in a lot of trouble if I'd been caught, but I hung around with people like the thieving Mathews siblings. I knew how to go unnoticed.

"You just gotta act like a Soc," Two-Bit would always say. "Don't give a _damn_. Stick that nose up in the air and walk like ya got a stick shoved where the sun don't shine, and ain't nobody going to question you."

I don't know whether it was a sassy walk that got me out of school, or the fact that the school didn't really care about the greasers, but I got out without anybody trying to stop me. It was safe to walk alone that time of day, since all the Socs were in school. So far, they'd held their side of the peace treaty laid out the night of the rumble, but their side of town was still fair game.

I didn't go to the DX straight away. I figured Soda'd be more worried if he saw me skipping school, so I went to see Dally instead. The grass in the cemetery was becoming green again since spring was coming. I think that's something Pony would have called 'ironic', because everyone in the cemetery besides me was dead and the grass just on top of them was alive.

This time I didn't have anything for Dally. No gifts of beer, or a note written over a decade ago, or pictures we thought were lost. I didn't have anything to say, either. I just wanted and needed to lay down beside my brother like we would when Mama would tuck us in for naps. I needed the safe feeling I always got knowing Dallas was nearby.

It wasn't like he could do anything about it anymore, but lining myself up alongside him still made me feel a lot better. The beer I left him last time was cloudy and slow to move when I picked it up. _I should bring him a new one next time, _I thought.

I didn't think I had been there for very long, just watching clouds and picking pieces of grass from the ground, whenever I heard footsteps. I shot up to see Sodapop walking towards me, a slow grin coming across his face.

"You've got grass all in your hair," he said, kneeling down behind me to pull the blades out. "I reckoned I'd find you here."

I didn't say anything for a few minutes. It felt nice to be sitting as close to Dally as I could with the weak sun warming my face and Soda Curtis's hands in my hair.

"I had a fight with my dad."

"About what?" Soda asked, working through a tangle in my hair.

"Dally. My mother. A lot of things, I guess." I sighed, followed by a deep breath. "Soda, do you think he could have done it all on purpose? Like Dallas was suicidal or somethin'?"

That was the closest I had ever come to telling someone the full truth about my mother's death, and it made my heart pound so hard it hurt. It didn't help that Soda's hands stopped on my hair and he didn't say anything for a real long time.

"There's something I think you should read." _Read?_ I'd never known Sodapop to crack a book, even when he was in school. He helped me up and took my hand, leading us so that we were walking toward his house. Soda told me to stay in the living room before he went into his and Pony's room.

"Ponyboy's composition book?" I was confused. Why would Soda want me to read Pony's essay? He handed me three more folders. "How much did he write?"

"A whole book, that's what he wrote. He wrote a whole book in a week." I flipped through the pages, looking at all the lines covered in Pony's cursive writing.

"About what?" I had already guessed the answer, and it made my heart pound.

"It's all about Johnny and Dallas," he said and my knees went weak. I grabbed onto his sleeve. Leave it to Pony to write a whole damned book.

"I'll read it," I promised. I needed to. I _had _to. I owed my brother that much.


End file.
